


Stupid Cupid

by moonprism



Series: Don't U Wait No More [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - High School, Childhood Friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9163024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonprism/pseuds/moonprism
Summary: “Spoiled?” Mark asks as he pushes himself up, leaning against the back of the booth chair. “Spoiled with what?” Mark narrows his eyes playfully, slumping down in the booth and trapping Jaemin’s legs between his own.“With my ever prevalent presence, of course,” Jaemin laughs, flipping his fair in faux sass.Mark rolls his eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”“Oh, so you’re not denying it?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally going to be oblivious mark at work and jaemin always coming to bother him. it obviously turned into Mark Has Feelings.
> 
> some cussing/foul language here and there. not too much.
> 
> I DIDNT EDIT THIS WHEN I SHOULD HAVE SORRY IM BAD!

Mark didn’t expect his part time summer job to turn into his regular part time job. One day his online schedule had “temporary” typed in boldface under his name, and the next it disappeared. Mark didn’t question it, nor did he realize what its disappearance meant until he kept receiving weekly schedule update emails from Panera. Mark is happy that his managers liked him enough to keep him; he truly is, but he threw his entire summer away for nothing but insufferable (but cool) older coworkers and no free time only for it to transfer into his busy senior year. Now he’s spending all his afternoons at Panera juggling trays and preparing food when he could be doing, well, nothing, but still.

He dragged Donghyuck into applying, which is now something he regrets. Donghyuck can be a good person, sure; but if people were given alignments at birth, Mark knows he would be undeniably Chaotic Evil (alongside Yoonoh, who Mark doesn’t stay too close to for extended amounts of time). They fight too much, and Mark swears he’s being sabotaged everyday by some unseen force. Someone steals his soda out of the small breakroom fridge regularly, and there is always some mysterious disappearance of his work apron from the back.

The older members do their fair share of taunting, too (but they’re no Donghyuck). He’s one of the only four younger employees, so of course it’s bound to happen, but it’s always in good fun even if just a little infantilizing. Mark is one of the babies, so they treat him like a younger brother—it can be nice, or it can be awful. That’s brotherhood, Mark assumes. It’s nice. In a way. There are more “silly baby” jokes than there are fun, good words, but it’s not bad—it’s still work and coworkers can be a pain in the ass, but it’s not bad.

But his scheduled work hours have somehow turned into a heavy load, one that is hard for him to balance during a school week. Not that Mark truly works a lot of hours, but for an eighteen year old boy in high school, four hours of his day almost everyday is starting to pile up. He wants to do things, and see people. A particular person, maybe. And Johnny would probably argue that Mark does get to see that particular person regularly, because he never stops coming into the store.

Jaemin learns Mark’s schedule every week. At first, he’d text Mark regularly asking for the days he worked, and would show up during those hours (most of the time). It became such a regular thing that Mark eventually would send a text message of the screen capture of his work schedule online to Jaemin without Jaemin even asking. And accordingly, Jaemin came to Panera in the middle of Mark’s shift almost every time—the only times he didn’t being the ones Jaemin has soccer practice or piano lessons.

He walks up to the counter and asks for someone to tell Mark he’s here and goes to sit in the same exact booth, backpack next to him and laptop on the table, and waits until Mark has a free moment or they both goof off even while Mark technically isn’t free.

Mark can recall overhearing Yuta asking Jaemin “Don’t you have anything better to do?” and “No,” was all he said with a somewhat patronizing smile on his face.

And when Mark’s shift is over, they ride the city bus together back to their neighborhood.

Jaemin isn’t Mark’s best friend. Or maybe he is. Mark has never really thought about it. He’s known Jaemin since forever, running around their cul-de-sac in the summer from the time they were old enough to play outside by themselves until they turned into homebody teenagers in middle school. Until sidewalk chalk and wiffle ball became Mario Party 6 and eventually one player Japanese role playing games they had to take turns playing, switching the Playstation controller back and forth every couple of hours. And summers and winter breaks alike stayed like this until Mark’s dreaded yet long awaited final year of highschool.

They spent a lot of time together, even in school. Jaemin is a year younger, and therefore always a grade behind Mark, and the reality of that had never been weird until Mark’s senior year. It was always tangible, there, but it was never weird or a problem. But now it feels like it. Being a senior feels so far away from being a junior. But he still doesn’t feel far away from Jaemin. He comes into Panera all the time to see him. Of course he isn’t far away.

Spending all these years together—growing from children to, well, bigger children (according to the older coworkers, particularly Johnny). Always being around each other. Jaemin is such a constant part of Mark’s existence alone, almost like he had been part of Mark’s existence since he began, that Mark has never once thought of what Jaemin was. Jaemin has just always been there. Jaemin is just Jaemin.

“Your boyfriend is here, Mark,” Donghyuck says as he passes him, carrying a black plastic tub of dirty dishes. Mark fights the urge to trip him.

“Shut up, man. That shit got old four years ago,” Mark bites as he pulls his apron off and looks at Dongyoung, giving him a salute to let him know he’s going on break. “Have fun doing dishes in my place while I go on break,” Mark smiles.

“Go to hell.”

“It’s Hell here everyday with you, friend.” Donghyuck throws used napkins at Marks back as he walks away, and Mark can’t help but laugh.

(“Hey, pick those napkins up!”

“Yes, sir.”)

Mark rounds the corner and sees Jaemin with his backpack slung over his shoulder, hair a little windblown and nose red from the walk in the cold. There’s a smile on his face, of course there is, and he greets Mark with a wave and white teeth.

“Hey!” Jaemin shouts, but his eyebrows furrow. “Are you getting off now? Did I come that late today?” As if Jaemin needs to come to Mark’s stupid part time job everyday like it was a responsibility (but the managers don’t mind because he always buys something).

“Nah, break,” Mark explains. “Donghyuck told me you were here, and I was due for a break soon, so I took it early.”

“Very nice of you, Mark Lee,” Jaemin tells him as he begins walking towards his regular table, Mark following beside him. They plop into the booth with a dull thud against the fake leather upholstery, and Mark starts the mental countdown until his fifteen minutes are up. Why are breaks fifteen minutes? As if that was enough.

“God, I’m tired,” Mark huffs, pressing his forehead to the (hopefully clean) tabletop, arms outstretched with his fingers wrapping around the other side of the table’s edge, Jaemin situated perfectly in the center. Mark knows he doesn’t really have the right to say that; Jaemin balances school, sports, piano, and Mark. Mark can barely balance the simple life tasks of eating and bathing while going to school and work. He doesn’t get how Jaemin does all of it and still manages to see Mark everyday.

“Just a few more months and it’ll be over,” Jaemin begins, pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket. “College is around the corner.”

Oh, right. College.

Fucking great.

Mark groans into the table and pulls his arms back to his body, folding them to rest his head on them. Jaemin just laughs.

“Are you coming over today? I just bought Final Fantasy XV,” Mark poses, voice muffled from speaking into his crossed arms and the table.

“Really? I wish I could,” Jaemin pouts. It’s cute. “Me and Jeno are going to see a movie.” Jeno, huh? Mark turns his head and lets one cheek press into his wrist. “You can come if you want,” Jaemin adds quickly.

Third wheel? No thanks. And Mark says that exactly.

“God, you’re spoiled,” Jaemin comments, but with a hint of a laugh.

“Spoiled?” Mark asks as he pushes himself up, leaning against the back of the booth chair. “Spoiled with what?” Mark narrows his eyes playfully, slumping down in the booth and trapping Jaemin’s legs between his own.

“With my ever prevalent presence, of course,” Jaemin laughs, flipping his fair in faux sass.

Mark rolls his eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, so you’re not denying it?”

“I will kick your ass.”

 

 

 

“Where’s your hip attachment?” Johnny asks Mark. Mark and Johnny worked the same shift today, only four hours, but it was coming to a close in the next fifteen minutes. Mark prefers working shifts with Johnny than with the other associates. Johnny is....kinder, Mark thinks. And easier to talk with. Maybe treats him less like a baby than the others, too. He’s a good guy. Maybe a little ridiculous, but still a good guy.

“My what?” Mark unties his apron and walks behind the counter to Johnny.

“Jaemin,” Johnny replies. Marks rolls his eyes. Okay, never mind. Screw Johnny. “Soccer season is over, so I thought he’d be here everyday he didn’t have practice. Even on days he has practice, he still meets you here.”

“Shut up, bro. Jaemin can do stuff and have other friends.” It comes out weird, though. Maybe a little like his voice sounds too distant from his mouth.

“Sounds more like you’re trying to convince yourself than explain to me.” Johnny presses his elbows into the register counter.

“Now’s not the time to get all psychoanalyze-y, John,” Mark shoots at him. Mark’s probably just tired.

Jaemin texted him earlier that he was going to hang out with his friends (Mark didn’t ask who). Jaemin can do that. He has friends in his grade, and Mark has his. Mark can accept that. He’s not Jaemin’s only friend, and Jaemin isn’t his. Mark isn’t a jealous little kid.

“Oh, I see the problem here.”

“Yeah?”

“You miss him after one damn day.”

“Shut up, John.”

“Come on, Mark Lee. You’re lonely,” Johnny teases further. “You miss Jaemin.”

“Don’t you have to go embarrass yourself in front of Ten, dickhead.” Johnny is right. And Mark realizes he really is spoiled.

“Not for another seven minutes,” Johnny says, flicking his wrist to look at his nonexistent watch.

 

 

When Mark finally leaves the store, the sky has faded from orange and pink to a weird evening blue that only happens when the city lights illuminate an overcast sky, a small strip of the remaining orange-pink at the very distant horizon. It’s colder in the evening, and Mark can see his breath in a mist in front of him when he sighs into the air. Mark feels heavy and like his jacket can’t keep him warm enough.

“Hey!” a familiar voice calls to him from the parking lot. It’s Jaemin, all bundled up in scarves with his hands deep in his pockets, pretty smile on his face. And Mark’s eyes widen before making a jog towards Jaemin.  
“What are you doing here?”

“Going home with you?” Jaemin laughs, stating it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world for him to do.

“I thought you were hanging out with your friends tonight,” Mark tells him, and Jaemin begins walking undoubtedly to the city bus stop like they have together so many times in the last few months. Mark stands there looking absently at Jaemin’s retreating form before following and running to catch up to him.

“I left early. They were understanding.” And that’s all Jaemin says about it.

“Oh.”

They stand at the stop together talking idly before turning completely quiet, comfortable in the silence. It’s normal. It feels normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But the bus ride is different. It stays silent. And the sky turns from the weird blue to a dark navy, street lights and neon signs illuminated in the windows as the bus pushes itself along this side of the city. Mark doesn’t know what to say, and it seems that Jaemin doesn’t either for once.

“Are you okay?” Mark finally speaks up.

Jaemin jerks his head up. “Wait, me?”

“Yes, you,” Mark laughs. Jaemin is cute.

“Yeah, I’m…actually—,” Jaemin turns and his knee bumps against Mark’s. “Something weird happened, and you’re my best friend. I'm supposed to tell you stuff like this, right?” And Mark’s heart beats like a drum in his chest.

“Uh, right. You can tell me. I’ll listen to you always, dude.” And suddenly, calling Jaemin _dude_ feels funny coming from his mouth.

“I had my first kiss today,” Jaemin says, and then he pauses and Mark’s heart beats harder. “And it was shitty.” And Jaemin rarely says things like _shitty_  to Mark, so he panics.

“What happened?” Mark almost yells. “They didn’t hurt your or treat you badly, right?”

“Mark,” Jaemin laughs, “I’m fine. It was just bad.”

“God, don’t scare me like that, Jesus,” Mark scolds him.

Jaemin throws his hands up in defense, scarf brushing against his bottom lip as he smiles, knee still pressed into Mark’s. “Sorry, sorry.” He stuffs his hands back into his jacket. “He was nice,” Jaemin says hesitantly. “But it felt weird and like I was kissing a wall. And I think he only kissed me because he felt like it was something he had to do? Why are teenage boys absolute idiots in front of their friends.” And Mark laughs at that.

“I can’t remember my first kiss,” Mark admits.

“Oh, you promiscuous boy, you,” Jaemin jokes, nudging his shoulder into Mark’s. And Mark’s heart beats in his chest again. Can this stop?

“That’s not what I meant,” Mark nudges back. “I just mean it was average enough to forget.” Mark looks at Jaemin’s reaction, then his mouth. The view out the window signals they’re almost to their stop.

“I didn’t know you had your first kiss, though,” Jaemin tells him. He says it quietly. “I mean, I kind of figured you had it already, but.” He almost sounds hurt that he wasn’t told, and Mark feels bad.

The bus comes to halt, brakes and wheels whining as it does so. They thank the driver, and make their way to their neighborhood.

Again, the walk is silent. And Mark doesn’t like it.

“Who kissed you?” Mark asks as they walk along the sidewalk of their suburban little neighborhood. All the houses look the same. Mark always thought that was weird.

“Jeno,” Jaemin tells him after a brief moment. Jaemin doesn’t look at him.

“Oh,” is all Mark says.

“Are you mad?” Jaemin asks, turning his head to look at the street absently.

“What? No! Why would I be mad?”

“I thought you didn’t like him!”

“What gave you that idea, you little punk?” Mark says jokingly. Jaemin smiles.

“You always seemed upset when I brought him up or hung out with him.” Oh, was Mark that obvious? He doesn’t even know why it bothered him. Jeno is a nice guy. They have mutual friends.

“I didn’t mean for it to—.”

“I’m sure,” Jaemin says to him, smiling at something that Mark feels is a joke he’s in on alone. “Maybe the kiss with him was bad because I don’t like him like that.”

“You don’t?” It comes out too quickly and too happily, and Mark wants to die. Shit.

Jaemin narrows his eyes, still smiling. “What’s up with you today, Mark Lee?”

Mark stops them abruptly under a particularly bright street light, both of their houses still two blocks away. “I just missed you today. It was really weird. I felt like I was starting to get jealous or something, like a school kid with a crush,” Mark laughs. And he has no idea why he stopped them dead on the sidewalk. It’s freezing, and it’s starting to get harder for him to handle, cheeks and nose red.

Jaemin doesn’t comment on it and only asks if Mark is cold.

“It’s freezing out here. How could the temperature do this to me,” Mark whines. “I didn’t think to bring a better jacket or anything because it felt fine this morning before school.”

“Luckily for you, I have this scarf,” Jaemin says as he begins to unravel it from around his neck.

“But you’ll be cold, then?”

“Sharing is caring.” And before Mark can protest, Jaemin wraps the long wool scarf first around Mark’s neck and then his own. “Better?” Jaemin asks over the scarf, always looking right into Mark’s eyes.

“Y-yeah,” he tells Jaemin, face heating up (and not because of the scarf).

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” Jaemin asks him as he starts making his way back to their houses, pulling Mark along by the scarf whether Mark wanted to start walking or not.

“S-sure,” Mark stutters as he stumbles up to Jaemin. Jaemin’s going to take Mark’s head off with this thing if he doesn’t keep up the pace. Why does Jaemin have to be a physically fit soccer play who walks too fast and Mark a couch potato?

They walk in the cold close enough for their hands and arms to touch, and Mark can’t seem to make eye contact with Jaemin once as they walk the same familiar sidewalk. Every house, even though exactly the same, still easily told apart as if they were different. Years and years of living in this cookie-cutter neighborhood, years of living next door to Jaemin, years of going to school together. How is he going to make it without Jaemin a year behind him? It’s weird. Mark can accept change; he can, but not like this. Mark doesn’t know what he’ll do without Jaemin.

“Oh!” Jaemin lights up. “I just remembered something I was going to tell you.”

“What is that?” Mark turns to him, their side-by-side houses coming into view.

“I talked to student services today,” Jaemin tells him. “I wanted to keep this a secret from you…” Jaemin pauses and eventually slows to a stop. Mark can only stop with him.

“Yeah?”

“I have enough credits to graduate early because of those advanced placement classes I took the last couple of years…” Jaemin trails off.

“What.” Mark feels like he just got hit in the gut. Is Jaemin serious?

“So I’m going to be taking some final courses with seniors next semester, because, you know, technically I am one now.” Jaemin is all smiles and white teeth, as always.

“Are you kidding me?” Mark is incredulous. Thank you, God, for Na Jaemin. “God, I’m so relieved right now, shit.” Mark slumps over, hands now on his bent knees (taking Jaemin half of the way with him because of that damned scarf).

“Mark, calm down. It isn’t that big of a deal, Jesus,” Jaemin says hunched over.

“Jaemin, I really didn’t know what I was going to do without you,” Mark says to him, hands still on his knees.

“Spoiled,” Jaemin snorts. “Stand up; you’re killing my posture here, Mark.”

 

 

They make it to Jaemin’s front door, standing on the porch, yet again, in silence together. Jaemin hasn’t tried opening the door yet, and the scarf is now loosely wrapped around both their necks letting cold air come through. Mark thinks he should feel weird about this, but he doesn’t.

“How much do you like me?” Jaemin breaks the silence, and the whole world goes still.

“Huh?” Mark thinks his heart just fell into his stomach, and it becomes a little harder to breathe. He doesn’t understand the question, only that it makes him nervous. “I don’t understand.”

Jaemin changes this subject. “Maybe everyone’s first kiss is bad,” Jaemin begins. “But what if you kissed the person you liked for the first time?” Jaemin moves closer to Mark, and Mark instinctively reciprocates it.

“I bet it would be good,” Mark says hushed.

“And maybe,” Jaemin moves in closer to Mark’s mouth, “memorable?” It’s just as quiet.

“Yeah,” Mark replies, voice barely above a whisper, lips meeting Jaemin’s. Oh. “Oh!” Is all the goes off in Mark’s silly little head. Oh! Oh, God, Mark has never felt so blind in his life. Jaemin’s lips are soft, and he’s still inexperienced, but it’s probably the most pleasant first kiss Mark has ever had.

It’s kept innocent and lasts surprisingly longer than expected, fingers interlocking with fingers, and both pulling away with bright pink faces from the cold and maybe a little of something else. (“Romance!” echoes in Mark’s head, but in Donghyuck’s dumb voice instead.)

“Was that okay?” Jaemin asks, resting his body back on his heels.

“Want to again?”

Jaemin places both hands on either side of Mark’s face, and pecks him right on the mouth. “Spoiled.”

“Perhaps.”

**Author's Note:**

> im king of disappointment
> 
> I HOPE YOU DIDNT HATE THIS THO! these 2 are so cute. they are. 
> 
> cliche ending bc im a desperate-for-good-things-and-happy-endings mother fucker.


End file.
